Clarke goes wild at fancy dress party
by Banana1982
Summary: Clarke goes to a Game of Thrones themed fancy dress party dressed as wildling, Ygritte. Feeling sexy and fierce, Clarke begins to enjoy the party, until she spots Jon Snow across the room. Ugh, it's Bellamy Blake. Another guy who 'knows nothing'...
1. Chapter 1

"O, please...", Clarke pleaded, pulling her hoody up over her eyes, already sensing defeat.

"Look, Griffin, when was the last time you laughed - I mean REALLY laughed," her oldest friend Octavia persisted, pulling Clarke's hoody back down so she couldn't hide. "I know. I can't remember either."

"But, O... I'm not sure I'm ready. It's only a month since..."

"Don't do that, Griffin. Don't let that ass hat continue to drag you down."

"Ass hat?"

"You know... someone who wears their ass as a hat," Octavia replied, seriously straight faced. She proceeded to bend down and place on an imaginary hat on her head. "See? Ass hat."

Clarke chuckled, "You're a laugh. Where did you even hear that?"

"Bell..." Octavia smirked flicking her hair over her shoulder, looking eerily like her big brother.

"WHY does that not surprise me? Sounds like something that clown would say," Clarke said, exasperated.

There weren't many people that Clarke didn't gel with. She'd known Octavia since the first day of the surgical residency program, 3 years before and they hit it off right from the start. Octavia was _ying_ to Clarke's _yang_ , always bright, warm and glass-half-full. Nothing phased that girl. Octavia was fearless and had the biggest heart in the world. A sharp contrast to Clarke's more cynical and pragmatic personality where it took a lot for her to let people in.

They were like family, living together before Clarke moved in with...the ass hat. She could never, ever pinpoint why Octavia's older, brooding, sarcastic brother infuriated her so much. She had never gone longer than 30 minutes without trading insults with Bellamy Blake. But, he was O's only family, so Clarke had learned to tolerate his moodiness.

"So, see you at Lincoln's. 8pm, Friday?" Octavia confirmed, knowing she'd won the battle.

"Fine! Anything to get you to chill out. You're bringing the tequila."

Octavia let out a little squeal and hugged Clarke tightly. "I'm proud of you, Griffin."

"I'm glad someone is," sighed Clarke.

"Right, no more 'poor me, I got dumped.' You're better than that and you're going to be just fine," Octavia said, suddenly serious. "You'll be okay." Anyway, I have a good feeling about this party."

"You and your 'feelings - you're so full of shit, O." Clarke said, shaking her head.

"Ha, we'll see. My shift starts in 10. See you Friday, Griffin!" Octavia exclaimed, throwing the apartment door behind her.

Clarke flopped on the coach as the door opened again.

"Oh, I almost forgot the best bit. It's fancy dress...a Games of Thrones theme. Get an outfit!" Octavia shouted, door slamming in her wake.

Clarke burried her head into the coach before letting out a muffled scream. _What the hell am I going to wear?_

It was Tuesday night, so Clarke had, between shifts at the hospital, hardly any time to sort an outfit for this party. _That girl knows me FAR too well._ Octavia knew that Clarke's love of fancy dress and that god damn show would get her genuinely excited about this party. Clarke loved how stepping into fancy dress felt like stepping into someone else's head. A complete escape from her own life. Clarke had to admit, after a truly rotten 4 weeks, this was the kind of distraction she needed.

Clarke knew exactly who she was going to dress up as. Her favourite female character, Ygritte. Clarke couldn't have felt further apart from this character at the moment. She didn't feel wild, free, confident or fierce. Not even close. Finn 'Ass Hat' Collins had seen to that.

Clarke had fallen hard for Finn after she met him at work. He was a patient who had been admitted for an appendectomy. In hindsight, it really wasn't the most romantic of beginnings, but Clarke could only see that now it was all over. Ever the charmer, Finn won Clarke's heart with trips to five star restaurants and presenting her with expensive, flashy pieces of jewellry. Out of nowhere, he'd left her, after living together for 6 months, feeling cheap and used with her confidence shattered. Turned out he had another girlfriend back in his hometown the whole time. Thank god he'd moved back there, so there was no chance of Clarke running in to him.

 _Here's hoping this fiery red head's confidence will rub off on me._ Clarke spent the next few days creating her outfit. A combination of old fluffy throws, khaki combats and a bottle of hair dye. Clarke even sourced a bow and arrow (yup, a real one) to finish the look. She even started to warm up to the new auburn hair colour, a dramatic change from her usual blonde locks.

Friday arrived and Clarke posed in front of her mirror and stood as straight as she could, making herself as tough and tall as she could. "Right Griffin," Clarke whispered to her reflection. "It's time to say goodnight. Tonight I'm a badass, sexy wildling."


	2. Chapter 2

As Clarke approached Octavia's ground floor apartment, she could hear the music before she rang the bell. Ed Sheeran, she thought. _Really?_ God, Octavia was such a romantic, to the vomit-enducing ends of everyone else. But, Clarke forgave her for it. Octavia was kind, loyal and genuine through and through. There was no bull-shit with her and, if she wanted to play Ed Sheeran, then she would play him, even if everyone else rolled their eyes and begged for something less sappy.

Clarke chuckled to herself as she rang the bell. When the door was answered, some ominous looking guy towered over Clarke in some kind of furry outfit with white and blue make-up, with a massive warm grin on his face. "No offence, but you're the least menacing White Walker I've ever seen!" smiled Clarke as she strolled in. "Well you're the scariest and sexiest Wildling I've ever seen", the White Walker responded. Clarke winked and headed into the living room.

 _Wow, people had gone all out with their outfits_ , really capturing the fun and true atmosphere of Game of Thrones. It felt like people were either exposing lots of skin or wearing too many layers for April. it wasn't exactly warm outside, but outfits depicting the North were bound to be making people sweat at the very least.

Clarke scanned the room, looking for familiar faces. The outfits made it harder to spot friendly faces, but Octavia was hard to miss. Her dark hair was replaced with long flowing bright white locks and a blue flowing dress that left little to the imagination. "Well, hello Khaleesi", Clarke bowed to Octavia.

"Holy shit, Clarke. You look hot!" Octavia shouted, obviously impressed with the efforts Clarke had gone too.

"Well, thought I better make an effort for my best friend." Clarke mused as Lincoln came into view. His outfit was AWESOME. The best Clarke had seen yet. Matching the 'Moon of his Life', Lincoln was dressed as Khal Drogo, long hair wig and everything, He was intimidating, manly and ext all in one. "I feel a bit self-conscious," Lincoln admitted, but Octavia had different ideas. "You HAVE to catch up with Bell, tonight. I want a photo of you both!" Octavia turned to Lincoln. "I could just drink you up tonight, my big strong Khal Drogo."

Ugh, save me, Clarke thought as Octavia and Lincoln disappeared off to her room, She headed through to the kitchen to pop her bottle of red in the fridge. Then, as she entered back into the living room she saw a dark figure in the corner. His face was obscured as he spoke to someone with his head turned away, but he had a mop of dark, voluminous curly hair, a mass of black, feathery clothing cloaking his physique and a rather impressive replica sword. Whoever it was, they had, like Clarke, gone all out with their outfit.

They were dressed up as Jon Snow, The love of Ygritte's life. Clarke briefly pondered if life would imitate art as she checked out this man's pert ass, before he swept round, swirling his feathery Knight's Watch cape... "Oh, for fuck's sake," Clarke found herself exclaiming out loud. She knew those freckles and the infuriating expression of utter nonchalance.

His lip curled up into a full-on grin as he took the five steps across the living room to his Wilding kindred spirit. "Well, what brings you here, Ygriite?", Bellamy whispered into Clarke's ear.

Oh god, his outfit was incredibly authentic. Clarke couldn't deny it. Bellamy had done good. He looked like a warrior. He looked like Jon Snow. _Yes, yes, well done, Bell. He looked hot,_ but it was becoming clear to Clarke, as she looked round the room that, bar Octavia and Lincoln, they were the only matching couple from the TV show.

"Don't get any ideas. Blake, or should I say 'Dirty Crow?'" Clarke took a large intake of her wine, while looking the man before her up and down.

"I love the hair, Griffin. Hello Red!" Bellamy gave Clarke a wink. "We should hook up. I am yours, as you are mine after all."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Don't go getting any ideas, Snow. Just because Ygritte pursued Jon Snow, doesn't mean I'm going to do the same just because I'm dressed like a horny Wlidling."

"Who said anything about a ' _horny_ wildling?" Bellamy exclaimed.

"You know what, I'm not doing this, Blake. Go and find someone else's evening to ruin."

Clarke strutted off to the seats in the kitchen. It felt very lame considering the fierceness of her outfit. Of course, her Jon Snow followed.

Clarke and Bellamy had always had a strained relationship. More from Clarke's side latterly. When Clarke and Octavia had first become room-mates at university, Bellamy had visited a few times to check on O and see that she had made good friends that weren't going to be a bad influence.

The first time that Clarke had met Bellamy, he'd pulled her into her room and sat her down, grilling her to insure she would be a 'good influence,' At that first meet, if Clarke was honest, his presence initially had taken her breath away. He walked into their student flat and Clarke would never forget his deep warm brown eyes boring into her, like he was testing her soul. She was _gone_ , until he opened his obnoxious mouth and started telling her what she could and couldn't do with his sister.

"I'm sure O is big enough to make her own decisions." Clarke remembered.

"I know she is, but I don't know you at all, you could be a complete drunken slut for all I know." Bellamy responded.

That was three years ago and Clarke was still seething that the older Blake had implied that she was some kind of scrubber.

"YOU are such a Princess." Bellamy mumbled as he followed Clarke back into the kitchen. "It's ironic really You should NOT be dressed as someone as free and wild as Ygritte. I'd be hard pushed to find someone wound a tight as you, Griffin."

"Fuck you, Blake, Don't pretend you know anything about me." Clarke directed as she topped herself some more wine.

Bellamy observed Clarke awkwardly, shifting his cloak as if it was weighing him down, Very Jon Snow behaviour.

Before Bellamy could respond, Octavia re-emerged, looking flushed and full of fin. "Right fellow Game of Thrones friends, its time this party got interesting!" a few scantily glad Dothraki characters cheered. "From now on, every person here has to behave as their character would for the rest of the night." O had a twinkle in her eye as she looked straight at Clarke and Bellamy. "We will put episodes on the TV and every time your character kills someone, you have to down a shot of this..."

Octavia brandished a high bottle of Limoncello that she had brought back from her summer trip to Europe. She was 100% in her element. i was in Bellamy Blake (or Jon Snow) shaped hell.

Octavia shreaked: "3,2,1... it's time to step into your character!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi all Bellarkers! Thank you for the story follows and reviews. This is my first ever FanFiction. I hope you all like it. It probably only makes sense if you're a bit of a Game of Thrones fan too. I liked the idea of mixing the worlds up a bit. Also, I've always wanted to have a GoT fancy dress party, so living that dream out through this story. I'd love to hear what you all think.**

 **Please note, these are not my characters or stories – I just have a lot of love for The 100 and Thrones. Cheers xxx**

You had to hand it Octavia Blake. That girl had a vivid imagination and everyone was taking this whole role play thing very seriously. It was like a switch had been flipped. The whole mood of the party shifted. Octavia's rule that you could only come if you were a true, hard core Thrones fan had paid off.

For the first time that night, Clarke spotted Monty and Jasper. Monty was on the surgical programme with her and O. Jasper was his roommate and an up and coming DJ. Clarke was pretty sure Monty was a little bit in love with Jasper, but Jasper only had eyes for his kooky girlfriend, Maya. When Octavia started the countdown, Monty had leapt onto Jasper's back and Jasper waddled over to Clarke and Bellamy.

"Hodor! Hodor!" Jasper bellowed with a big grin on his face. "Hi Jon," Monty addressed Bellamy as he was clearly supposed to be Bran Stark. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your fiery looking friend?"

Clarke rolled her eyes. _Are they seriously doing this?_

"Hey little bro. This is my prisoner, Ygritte." Bellamy had a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "I captured her north of the wall." He winked at Clarke.

Clarke cut in. "Oh please, if anyone's a prisoner here it's you, Jon Snow. You wouldn't last five minutes without me to save you from Thenns and…"

"Hey! I'm a man of the Night's Watch. I know how to fight and I don't need some wildling red-head to protect me." Bellamy was loving this. Clarke could feel herself getting hotter and hotter under her layers. She was beginning to regret her character choice. She took a beat, then stood tall – remembering the character she was playing.

"You know nothing Jon Snow."

"Well, that's original."

Clarke moved towards Bellamy so they were sharing the same air. She wrinkled her eyes to scowl at him. Feeling bold, she grabbed his fur and pulled him closer, so they were nose to nose. Bellamy's eyes widened, startled at Clarke's touch and proximity.

"If you carry on like this, I'll blacken your eye."

Bellamy's eyebrows raised and she could have sworn his breath quickened. They held each other's gaze, both refusing to look away first.

"Okaaaaaay. On that note….Hodor, let's find somewhere to sit." Clarke could have sworn she heard Monty mutter something about getting a room as Jasper wandered off.

Monty's interjection had broken their staring match, but neither Clarke or Bellamy had moved away from each other. Clarke had decided, there was no way Bellamy was going to win this game. Clarke was going to make sure he dropped out of character first, whatever it took.

Octavia was hovering excitedly in front of the TV dishing out shots of limoncello. "Ygritte and Jon, it's your scenes, you better get ready for some shots!"

 _Oh god, could she have picked a worse episode?_ It was the one with the big battle at the wall. Between Ygritte and Jon, they must have killed dozens of people in that one episode. They were going to be hammered.

Sensing her worry, Bellamy had an idea. "As a steward of the Night's Watch, and because I have a wildling prisoner, I can't drink too much. Let's say, no more than 5 shots." _Damn, he's good._

"And you can't expect me to be responsible for a drunk wildling girl. As much fun as that could be." Bellamy's lips curled into a small smile, he shot Clarke a dark look. She felt a blush rising, but her winter furs hid her feelings.

Octavia looked a bit disappointed. "Very well. I shall grant you your request. A shot for the first 5 kills only."

As Octavia poured out their first shots, Clarke leaned in to Bellamy's ear, feeling his body heat. "Thank you for saving me from alcohol oblivion, Jon Snow. My hero."

Ygritte had the first kill so Clarke stepped forward for her first shot. From behind her, Bellamy quickly rearranged his pants. _Fuck_ , he thought. How could it be that they were both fully dressed, layered in clothes and a slight breathy whisper into his ear from Clarke had made his palms sweat and other parts of his body twitch?

Bellamy had never seen Clarke like this before. It was the last thing he expected to see after he heard from Octavia about what that prick Finn had done to her. He found himself feeling strangely proud of Clarke – she was kicking back and letting herself have some fun. It was seriously hot and he was more than happy to come along for the ride.

Clarke turned round after her second shot and smirked at Bellamy. She slowly licked her lips. Bellamy felt another twitch. "C'mon, Jon Snow. Your turn."

Twenty minutes later and Clarke and Bellamy had knocked back their quota of limoncello shots. The alcohol had created a light fog that was helping them both get even more into character. The pair of them were starting to feel more and more like a double act for the evening.

"Don't ever betray me, Jon Snow," Clarke was whispering in Bellamy's ear again. He gulped. "'Cos if you do, I'll cut your pretty cock off and wear it round me neck." Bellamy had to bite his tongue not to laugh, but Clarke eye-balled him again, intensely. "I won't, I promise," Bellamy whispered.

Clarke almost seemed to shrink a little, softening and losing some of Ygritte's ferocity. Bellamy realised his words had a more loaded meaning. He slid his hand into hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. Expecting Clarke to pull away, she laced her fingers through his. He guided her away from the living room and back into the kitchen.

"Another drink, Ygritte?"

Clarke smiled. "Go on then, Jon Snow." Bellamy let go of her hand. He located a box of wine in the fridge and claimed it for the two of them along with some plastic cups. "This should see us through the winter," Bellamy exclaimed proudly handing Clarke a cup. Clarke laughed and sipped on the cool drink.

"So, what now, Jon Snow?" Clarke smiled at Bellamy. It was a smile Bellamy couldn't recall ever being on the receiving end of. Clarke's whole face lit up, her eyes beaming shots at Bellamy. _Oh god, I want her._

Clarke was starting to lose sight of where Jon and Ygritte ended and Bellamy and Clarke began. She was feeling an invisible, but very present magnetic pull towards Bellamy. His knowing looks and gentle hands, the fact he knew what was wrong without having to ask, had made her want to melt into him. Why had she never seen this side of him before? Had playing these characters brought out the best in him? She knew deep down that Bellamy Blake was a good, decent person. She'd always known that. Hell, he would die for Octavia. He just didn't ever let his guard down around _her_.

They were leaning on the kitchen work tops facing each other. Again, they were both holding each other's gaze. In normal circumstances, Clarke would have blushed and looked away if a guy as attractive as Bellamy was staring at her this way, but she wasn't Clarke Griffin tonight. She was wild and could do whatever the hell she wanted. She was in control.

Clarke put her cup down and walked over to Bellamy. Placing her hands either side of him, she leaned in to him, pressing her furs against his. Bellamy shuddered as Clarke brushed her lips on his neck on her way to his ear. "So, when are you going to do that thing you do with your mouth, Jon Snow?"

Bellamy dropped his drink, with both the wine and his jaw hitting the floor…


	4. Chapter 4

Stunned, Bellamy stared into Clarke's eyes. He could see the mixture of aqua and splashes of turquoise surrounding her pupils – _she was so close_.

 _Say something_ , he kept thinking, but nothing was coming out. It was like he had some kind of paralysis, completely caused by this woman before him.

Clarke. Sure, a scary, fierce version. But, still Clarke. His Clarke. Bellamy didn't know whether to mentally high-five himself and pin her against the work top and kiss her as if he'd never kissed anyone before, or find the nearest exit and run.

 _This was Clarke_. If Bellamy was truthful, Clarke was the only girl he'd ever met who got his heart racing. Not just because she was hot. She was beautiful, always, but talking, sparring with Clarke was exciting. Bellamy anticipated and looked forward to O's parties, get-togethers, so he could see her. Thanks god for O's love of being a social butterfly. If it weren't for her, Bellamy would never see Clarke – even if it was just to fight.

He knew he'd upset her the first time they met. His overprotectiveness of O combined with being completely thrown by how instantly attracted he was to her had led to him being uncharacteristically rude. That was an understatement and he knew it. He was a complete ass-hole to Clarke that day – he always regretted it. Over the years, he thought about apologising, but was scared she'd figure out his real feelings for her if he let his guard down. There was no way he wanted to do that, he didn't think his heart could take it if Clarke rejected him.

And then she was dating that ass hole Finn Collins, so there was no way he could make a move. That guy had no idea what he had.

Anyway, he was pretty sure she didn't feel the same. Although, right now, in O's kitchen, she was pressed up against him, brushing her lips against his neck, asking him when he was going to go down on her…

 _Oh god, was this all a game to her?_ Bellamy closed his eyes for a beat, he couldn't think straight with her so close, so warm on his body. Suddenly, her teeth caught his lower lip in her mouth. His eyes darted open and their eyes connected as she sucked his lip. His body tensed as she let go with a pop. Every instinct in Bellamy's body was telling him to lift her up, carry her out of this stupid party, take her home and ravish every part of her body. But, he couldn't do it. Not, when she was 'in character' – she was probably teasing him, pushing his buttons, seeing if she could rattle the walls he'd so carefully built up between his heart and hers. _Not like this._

He leaned back and gently pushed her away. Clarke's eyes widened and for a split second her façade dropped. She looked terrified. Bellamy adjusted her furs which had bunched up and cleared his throat. He forced himself to look at her.

"I've told you, I am a man of the Night's Watch. I swore an oath!"

Clarke's shoulder's relaxed and she smiled. "You need to get your priorities straight, Jon Snow. Never laying with a girl? What kind of life is that?"

Clarke winked at him, licking her lips again. He looked to the ceiling – anywhere but at her.

"I need to clean this up." Bellamy grabbed some kitchen roll and started mopping up the spilt wine. Anything to escape the woman of his dreams.

The woman of his dreams. _What was he doing?_ He was basically, fancy dress party or not, saying no to Clarke. The girl he hadn't been able to get out of his head when he went on dates. When he kissed other girls. The girl who he preferred to argue with than spend time with girl's who actually liked him.

Bellamy decided, whether it was tonight or another day soon, he was going to be honest with Clarke. Tonight, he could maybe, _just maybe_ , give her a flavour of how great they could be…together.

Clarke rolled her eyes. Is he really cleaning the floor after what just happened? In all her 23 years, Clarke had NEVER been so brazen, so bold and downright forward. _Ever._ It had been one of the most exciting and liberating moments of her life. She didn't expect it to happen with Bellamy Blake, but, in a strange way, it had felt right.

She stood, staring at him carefully cleaning the floor. He was trying desperately to ignore her presence. She knew she'd unnerved him. That moment, when they were staring into each other's eyes, Clarke felt like she was finally seeing the real Bellamy. The one she saw around his little sister. He was vulnerable and, in that moment, they both knew it. That's when he closed his eyes and pushed her away.

What really got her was that, like he could read her thoughts, he knew she felt rejected and played the 'Jon Snow' card. It made Clarke feel better, but she knew there was more to this than a Game of Thrones fuelled flirtation.

Clarke was going to figure this out and if she needed to use her red-headed alter ego to prize out what was going on in Bellamy Blake's head, she was going to do it.

"You didn't answer me." Clarke tried to look nonchalant as Bellamy straightened up from the floor.

Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows and rubbed the back of his hair. "Answer what?"

"When you were going to do that thing with your mo…" Clarke didn't get to finish the sentence. Before she knew what was going on, Bellamy had wrapped one arm around Clarke's waist, the other grabbed back of her neck and he pressed his lips to hers.

Clarke felt like time had stopped. She forgot where she was, who she was meant to be pretending to be. She forgot to keep control. Hell, she could barely remember her own name. All she knew was that she felt like Bellamy Blake was going to set this kitchen on fire with the heat in that kiss.

His tongue caressed hers lightly and nibbled at her lower lip making her smile as they sunk into each other. But his hands. _Fuck, his hands were everywhere_. Through her hair at first, then one sliding over her ass, the other trailing under her furs cupping the base of her bra.

Clarke was starting to get the feeling she knew exactly what was going on in Bellamy Blake's head.


End file.
